𝑃𝐻𝐼𝐿𝑂𝑃𝐻𝑂𝐵𝐼𝐴|𝙏.𝙈.𝙍+𝙃.𝙅.𝙋

|Y U L E B A L L|

—RIGEL STEPPED OUT OF THE SHOWER, PUTTING A TOWEL AROUND HIS HIP, AND WALKED INTO HIS DORM. Draco was putting hair gel in his hair, while Blaise was looking for his tie.

A few minutes later, Rigel finally put his black suit on, and sighed, not knowing what to do with his messy curly hair.

"Hey, use this." Blaise said, knowing what the problem was.

Rigel caught the thing that Blaise threw, and looked at it. "Hair gel? Blaise, I'm not trying to be Draco—"

Blaise cut him off with a laugh, but explained. "It's magical hair gel, Ri. Put some on and it'll make your hair neat for the night."

"Oh, thank you." Rigel said, putting some on and looking at the mirror.

His curly messy hair was now gone and was replaced with neat curls.

Blaise whistled. "Looking good." He winked, making Rigel roll his eyes fondly.

••

Rigel, Draco, and Blaise walked into the great hall. He didn't even pay a glance to the dancing champions, while Draco's eyes widened.

"Is Voldemort... dancing?" Draco whispered.

"Draco, you dumb shit, it's a tradition." Blaise slapped his head.

Rigel drank a glass of firewhiskey, already knowing that he'd need much more to go through the night— not liking the couples that were in the room.

••

30 minutes into the ball, Rigel walked out of the great hall.

He felt like he was suffocating in romance, so he needed a walk.

He walked around the castle and made his way up to the Astronomy tower, but there was a figure already there, looking at the stars.

"You're the last person I expected to look at the stars." Rigel drawled.

Tom turned around. He was wearing a dark green suit, his wavy hair neat.

Their eyes got stuck on each other for a few seconds, but Rigel's was more— confusion.

Why had the sight of Tom in a suit made his heart beat a bit faster?

Tom cleared his throat, snapping out of his daze. "You know very little about me, Rigel."

Rigel shrugged, walking up to him and standing next to him, also looking at the stars.

Even though they were a few years apart, Rigel was almost the same height as Tom.

"I know. Sometimes I wish to know you— but then I realize: Fuck it." Rigel looked back at him. "You're Lord Voldemort. Your secrets never end."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing."

"It is." Rigel confirmed, making Tom frown a bit.

"What can I do for you to stop disliking me?"

"Honestly?"

Tom nodded.

"Don't even try." Rigel said. "Nothing can make me tolerate you. I dislike you with all my heart."

Tom smiled softly. "And yet you hated me last year, but it's now only disliking."

Rigel stilled. "They're the same thing, aren't they?"

Tom disagreed, but merely shrugged. "Rigel.." he started after a few seconds of silence. "I've apologized many times for what I did to your parents. Why are you still like this to me?"

"... I don't know." Rigel admitted, frowning in thought. "I have this feeling that if I.. forgive.. you... my life would change. I like my life very much as it is."

"Right." Tom nodded. "That's a.. bad.. feeling."

"What do you mean?" Rigel asked, finally looking away from the stars.

Tom didn't look away from the stars, though. "Have you ever thought that your life might change in a good way?"

"What good will my life be if I forgive Lord Voldemort; my parents' murderer?"

"No. You're right." Tom mumbled, looking ashamed. "I apologize for trying."

Rigel turned around as Tom started walking to the stairs. "Have you figured me out, yet?"

Tom stopped. "Yes."

"And?"

Tom looked at him, trying not to get lost in Rigel's eyes. "I figured you out well enough to know that you're a heartless, cold, miserable teen."

"I beg your pardon?" Rigel asked in gritted teeth, looking murderous.

Tom shrugged. "You don't care for anyone or anything, Rigel. Yet you wish deep down that somebody did care for you. You wish that you weren't so alone, but you push people away.—"

"—stop.—"

"—You sometimes think that you have a heart, but whenever you try to show it, you immediately stop, fearing that somebody might see you be nice."

"... Are you done?" Rigel whispered, for the first time ever, having tears in his eyes.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Rigel stayed quiet, giving Tom all the answers he needed.

"Rigel.." Tom sighed in pity. "I didn't mean it. It was just a way to figure you out."

"That was the worst way ever!"

"I know." Tom said, frowning when Rigel tried wiping his tears, but it just kept increasing. "Rigel—"

But he was cut off by Rigel trying to leave, bumping his shoulder hard on his. Tom immediately grabbed his hand, making him turn around. "Rigel, I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean it. I'm just trying to help—"

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?" Rigel angrily asked, pulling his hand out of Tom's. "I don't need help... Especially not yours."

Tom frowned further, watching as Rigel didn't look back and walked down the stairs, leaving him on the tower.

Even though it was a bad way— Tom finally figured Rigel out and it took 2-3 years.

However, never had he thought that he'd see Rigel cry... and that made him think: When was the last time Rigel even cried?

He remembered how Rigel's tears wouldn't stop a few minutes ago, no matter how hard Rigel tried to wipe them.

That answered his question.

Rigel had been building it up inside him for years and nobody had noticed—

—nobody except Tom.